


Lending Some Strength

by Zinae



Series: The choices we make [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keef tried so hard, M/M, another bonding moment, cuteness, fluffangst, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinae/pseuds/Zinae
Summary: It was kind of funny, how nothing had changed in the last two years.





	Lending Some Strength

It was kind of funny, how nothing had changed in the last two years.

They had lost the Castle of Lions and still Keith got the room right next to Lance. And he still heard things he was not supposed to hear.

Because of course a planet made of technological trees had paper thin walls and of course it was mandatory for the paladins to be in the same building and of course they had to share their floor. 

_ Of course.  _

Again, Lance was sobbing in the middle of the night. Again, Keith was lying awake, wondering why and how he could be able to help, because apparently two years on a foreign planet with just his mother and a teleporting space dog for company didn’t teach you how to human. 

_ Go figure. _

It always started with a gasp, soft, a little bit like a butterfly spreading its wings, barely audible, but pained and…

_ Terrified. _

Next there would be a quiet..

_ “Mamá…”  _

There it was, then the first sob. Another, then choked names Keith knew only from these nights.

Soft sobs, quiet cries, shuffling around, muted screams.

_ “Shiro…” _

This was a new one and Keith fell apart, he felt the agony in Lance’s voice, he felt it in his bones, his chest, his heart, tearing at his heartstrings just a little bit more, just a little bit, just a little bit, when Lance started begging for forgiveness.

He never screamed.

Lance never screamed, instead he was quiet in his sorrow, lost, hidden away like it was a weakness he was not ready to show but Keith knew.

_ He knew. _

He heard him each and every night, again and again and again.

Each and every “I’m sorry…”, “I should have…”, “Please don’t send me away…” was a shot through his heart and it hurt maybe more than the rejection back when they found out that Keith was a Galra.

Lance had accepted him. Lance had sat on his bed and he had explained his own situation and he had helped. 

Stayed and held his hand until the tremors had stopped and talked and talked and talked, until they were both calm and tired.

Another bonding moment they never talked about. 

Just another moment lost in time, hidden away in a pocket of space, behind millions of stars and myriads of memories.

Yorak shifted beside him and Keith sighed. He should…

_ He should. _

It was too easy to get up, prodding Yorak, until the massive dog got off his legs, his blue fur casting faint reflections on the walls, a greenish tint to them from all the lights outside.

It was far too easy to sneak to the room beside his, to lift his hand, as if he was about to knock and then…

It was far, far too easy to stand in front of the door for minutes, hand up high and limbs frozen in place, because this was the farthest he had ever gotten and he couldn’t chicken out now.

Lance had done this for him.

He had to give back at least a little. Still, knocking on that old, wooden door felt like the hardest thing he had ever done.

It was almost funny just how quiet Lance’s room got all of a sudden, how time seemed to freeze and shatter when the wood slowly parted and...

Lance looked like hell. Eyes red rimmed and tired, so very, very tired, the usual vibrant, sparkling blue stormy and dimmed down, huddled in a thin blanket, small and shivering.

“What do you want?”, there was little to no bite in his voice, only a certain broken, raspy quality, the one that came from either screaming too much or crying.

Keith hated both options with a passion. 

“I just…”, don’t chicken out now, “May I come in? I don’t want to talk here.” In the middle of a corridor, just a few doors and stairs away from the rest, when they both knew about Pidge’s bouts of insomnia.

Or Hunks sense for Drama. With the capital D.

Lance nodded, stepping aside, pulling the blanket closer around his shoulders, hunched and curled into himself.

The wasn’t enough fire in him, it seemed, to fight Keith, or straighten, for that matter, instead he barely crawled to his bed and pulled his knees up to his face, hiding behind them.

Keith sat down. He sat down and stared for a moment, remembering that one conversation two years ago, when they had just found out. 

About the half galra thing.

How soft Lance had been, kind and calming, how warm.

He reached out again and grabbed for his… friend, before Lance had so much as a chance to protest.

He fell into Keith’s side like a ragdoll, strings cut, a broken shell of something very much beautiful and alive.

“I miss my shack sometimes. Or Shiro's flat. Or my bed in my room…. In Shiro's flat. I miss the old lady from the bakery across the street, she was so old and so tiny but her granddaughter's husband was terrified of her. She was so sweet, strict, but so, so sweet and kind and always thought that Shiro didn’t feed me. Her lectures were… let’s just say legendary. She was homey. The shack was a mess, but another home. And Shiro’s flat was my home as well. I just… before I didn’t understand why you guys wanted to go back so bad, but I understand now. I want to show mom the earth I got to know. And… dads grave. I want to show her what exactly we are protecting.”

Lance sobbed into his shoulder, while Keith talked. Rambled, really. 

His scar burned, Lance’s hair was soft. So was the skin on his neck, except for a small scar on the base of it. 

Keith wondered how Lance got it.

“Mom and I traveled for all this time and I told her about you guys. I told her about Shiro, about Hunk and his cooking, I told her Coran’s crazy stories, how Pidge can sleep anywhere…”, his voice trailed off, somewhere far away, it softened, because that was something he did when he… “I told her how you saved me.”

Lance’s head just snapped up. Eyes careful and guarded but there was that certain kind of something flashing in them, something small and fast and it gave Keith hope that maybe, he could help.

“Yeah, remember? You were always there, you, with your dumb jokes, stupid flirting, with your stupid smiles and awful puns and great advice. Your ideas and how you just… were there when I needed you most. You noticed and you helped. But…”

Now came the hard part, “You can’t save everyone. I learned that the hard way at the blade. I knew Shiro for years and I didn’t notice that he was just a clone and you, you noticed. You just…”

“I worshipped him too much to see more than my hero. I doubted all he said and I wondered, but at the same time, how could I know? Black had accepted him.”, faint breath on his skin, whispers echoing off the walls. 

“Black takes the best leader, Lance, he does not care whether his pilot is the real one or not. And that clone… I think he actually believed that he was Shiro. So… We all fell for it. All of us. And yet, you noticed.”, Keith dared a small smile and maybe he should not, but hugging felt nice, so he pulled Lance forward, while leaning back, settling that thin, lanky body between his legs, pretty much manhandling Lance into his arms for good, his hands settling in Lance’s hair and on his back. 

Funny, how the other melted into it. 

Funny, how his sobs quieted into tiny hiccups.

Funny, how Keith was fine with doing anything but letting go.

It was much later, when Lance was fast asleep, face dried of tears, the blanket spread over the both of them, breathing even and calmed, his fingers, long and thin and gorgeous, wrapped tightly around Keith’s hand, that Keith actually realized, what he was doing and that this? 

That he wanted this. 

That he was doomed and helpless and that maybe, he really needed to talk to his Mom. Or Allura. Or Shiro. 

Because nothing had changed.


End file.
